Friday, November 14, 2014

Release Blitz for Celia J Anderson

Little Boxes by Celia J Anderson Out Now! 


Suddenly bereaved, Molly White realises that she has never really known her feisty husband Jake when random boxes begin to appear through the post, each one containing a tantalising clue to the secrets of Jake and Molly’s past. Someone who knows them both well, for reasons of their own, has planned a trail of discovery. The clues seem to be designed to change Molly’s life completely, leading her around Britain and then onwards to rural France and deepest Bavaria.

Meanwhile, waiting in the wings is Tom, a charismatic artist who runs a gallery in the same town. Strong, independent and wheelchair-bound from the age of fifteen, he leads a solitary life and has no idea how devastatingly attractive he is to women. When Tom meets curvy, beautiful and funny Molly, he knows that she is his dream woman, but she seems way out of his orbit until the boxes start to weave their spell and the two of them are thrown right out of their comfort zones.


Tom sat on the beach in the spring sunshine, eating cockles out of a tub and
gazing rather grimly at the incoming tide. If it came much closer he’d have to
abandon his painting for the day – it took a good twenty minutes to pack up and get
back to his car on the promenade.

As he licked his fingers and screwed up the seafood carton, there was a scrunch
of pebbles and a whoosh of air as a small boy thundered past, whooping at the top
of his voice. He was followed at speed by the most desirable woman that Tom could
ever remember seeing in this small seaside town. It was his Lady in Red; the one
who had been cropping up in his dreams far too often since he’d first seen her on the
beach. Her hair was an explosion of dark curls, and she wore tight orange jeans with
a wildly clashing crimson sweater that came almost to her knees. Tom took a deep
breath to say hello but he was too late.

‘Max... MAX... don’t go near the sea. I mean it!’ she bellowed, skidding straight
into Tom as she chased the boy across the pebbles. ‘Sorry, sorry… have I hurt you?
Is your painting wrecked? Oh – wow; it’s good, isn’t it? You can tell it’s meant to be
the pier. I’m really, really sorry…’

Tom picked himself up and put his painting chair the right way up again. ‘Hey, it’s
okay – you can fall over me any time,’ he said, grinning into her startlingly green

She blinked and looked away, her lovely face matching the colour of her
sweater. Shielding her eyes with a hand, she scanned the beach for the boy.

‘Where’s he gone, the little toad? Ah, there he is, he’s making something out of a
heap of stones – at least he’s not paddling fully dressed like last time. Oh hell, you
don’t even know me and I’ve already wrecked your work. I’m Molly. I think I’ve seen
you here before, haven’t I? Let me fix your painting.’

She bent down to see if she could repair the damage and Tom held out a hand
to stop her trying to brush bits of stone off his picture. ‘No, honestly, it’s fine, I’ll sort it
out. I’m Tom, and I’ve seen you, too. You’re easy to remember.’

‘Am I? Why?’

‘Lots of reasons – you often seem to be in a hurry, you always wear something
red, you’ve got lots of kids, you’re gorgeous…’ Tom stopped in confusion.
‘Gorgeous? Me? Do you need your eyes testing or something?’ Molly blushed
again and looked at him properly for the first time. ‘I’m sorry, that was really rude,’
she said. ‘My mum’s always telling me I don’t know how to take a compliment.’

‘Don’t worry, maybe you just need a bit more practice.’ Tom bent to carry on
sorting his painting kit out. He couldn’t help noticing how her eyes rested on his
forearms as he finished tidying up and, clearly aware of his scrutiny, she reddened
even more.

‘You’re very strong, aren’t you?’ she blurted out.

Tom laughed. ‘I guess I have to be, don’t I? If you’ve seen me before, you’ll
know why.’

‘I don’t want you to think I’ve been staring at you, Tom. It’s just that you’re…
um… different to most of the men round here.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Tom slung his bag over one shoulder and heaved himself out
of his folding chair.

‘Can I help you at all?’ Molly asked, standing on tiptoes to get a better view of
the shoreline. ‘Oh look, here are the other two Musketeers. They can carry
something for you, if you like.’

‘I don’t need any help, thanks.’ Tom bit back the familiar feeling of irritation and
smiled up at a pair of girls, dressed entirely in black, who had stopped next to him.
The taller one had multiple piercings. Both girls were scowling.

‘Mum, what are you like?’ said the pierced one. ‘We saw you knock the paints all
over the place. You’re so clumsy. Have you seen what Max is doing now?’

Molly looked again. The small boy had been jumping off his pile of stones and
had landed awkwardly the last time. He began to wail. ‘Max! I told you last time not
to do that. Hang on, I’m coming,’ Molly shouted.

The girls sighed and rolled their eyes at Tom as they watched their mum slither
off over the stones to the sandy stretch by the sea, where Max was now hurling the
biggest rocks he could find into the waves. The pierced girl turned to the smaller one.
‘Bloody hell, why doesn’t she just leave him alone for a bit? The only place he
can go is into the sea.’

‘But he’s only little – he can’t swim.’

‘Exactly.’ The older girl smirked as they wandered off down the beach.

Tom sighed. Another opportunity lost; still no nearer to finding out more about his dream woman. Oh well, at least he knew her name now. On the other hand, it didn’t
take a genius to work out that she was already taken. The wedding ring gave it
away, even if the children didn’t.

Author Bio:
Celia J Anderson spends most of her spare time writing in as many different genres as possible, including children’s fiction. In her other life, she’s Assistant Headteacher at a small Catholic primary school in the Midlands and loves teaching literature (now comfortingly called English again but still the best subject in the world.)
She tried a variety of random jobs before discovering that the careers advisor at secondary school was right, including running crèches, childminding, teaching children to ride bikes (having omitted to mention she couldn’t do it herself) and a stint in mental health care. All these were ideal preparation for the classroom and provided huge amounts of copy for the books that were to come.
Celia enjoys cooking and eating in equal measures, and thinks life without wine would be a sad thing indeed. She is married, with two grown up daughters who have defected to the seaside. One day she plans to scoop up husband and cats and join them there.

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Release Blitz: Sapphic Smut Edited by Lucy Felthouse and Kev 'Mitnik' Blisse

Sapphic Smut: Tales of Lesbian Lust Out Now! 

Light hearted, sexy Sapphic smut is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Lucy Felthouse with assistance from Kev ‘Mitnik’ Blisse.

From coffee shops to exotic Indian adventures to cosy cabins in France, Sapphic Smut has it all. Fun with sugar, naughty spankings, seductions by strangers, seductions by friends, cougars and even a twist on a fairy tale abound in this exciting collection of lesbian stories from erotica’s finest authors.

This delicious girl-on-girl anthology contains stories from Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Louisa Bacio, Sallyanne Rogers, Vanessa de Sade, Tabitha Rayne and Elizabeth Coldwell.


Alana really couldn’t believe how flat Holland was. She’d been told by many people, but somehow, she still wasn’t expecting a place that made Cambridgeshire look like the Peak District. Her view from the train as she travelled from Schiphol airport to Amsterdam’s Centraal Station was unimpeded. Not so much as a hillock was visible.
And now, here she was, standing outside the station with crowds milling around her. A mixture of tourists, businesspeople and natives. She herself was a combination of two of those groups—she was here on business, but she’d deliberately extended her trip so she could spend a couple of days exploring the city. She had a day either side of her meeting, the boring part a filling to a sightseeing sandwich. Though, despite the boring tag, the meeting definitely wasn’t a bad thing, it was an appointment to cross the ts and dot the is on a very lucrative deal—certainly the trip was worthwhile.
After watching the insanity for another minute or so, she began to head away from the station, wheeling her small case along with her. Already armed with a guidebook and a decent map, she knew where she was going. Her map-reading skills were excellent, and she made the short walk to her hotel in less than twenty minutes. Anywhere else, she’d have gotten a cab, but it appeared they were a rare commodity in this city.
She’d checked in, dumped her bags and freshened up within another ten minutes, and was back on the street.
An online acquaintance had sent her a bunch of information for her trip—about the best museums, interesting things to see that might not be in guidebooks, and details on transport. It appeared that Amsterdam was unlike London, Paris and Rome, in as much as it had trams as its preferred mode of transport, rather than underground trains. Only one Metro line ran through the city, north-to-south. Everywhere else was utterly dependent on trams, bikes and being on foot.
And fuck, there were a lot of bikes. They zipped here, there and everywhere, not always staying where they were supposed to be, it seemed. The slim Dutch people atop the bikes were oblivious, just concentrating on getting where they were going.
Alana searched for the nearest tram stop, and quickly discovered she needed to be on the other side of the road to head in the right direction.
Crossing the road was a chore in itself. A dice with death. She’d thought Rome’s motorists were insane, but at least they were fairly predictable. Here, she was faced with crossing a road that held a cycle path, a tram line and a lane for cars. Shifting down the pavement, she stood at the conveniently placed crossing. It still didn’t make things much easier, but at least she could mingle in with the crowd. Traffic was much more likely to stop if it was going to hit a crowd of people than a single pedestrian. Right?
By some miracle, she reached the opposite pavement unscathed—except for her nerves, which were shot—and approached the tram stop. As if by magic, a tram arrived, and it was the correct number. Things were looking up.
After a few minutes, she realised that public transport in Amsterdam was nowhere near as easy to navigate as in the other major cities she was familiar with. There, their Tube or Metro stations always had plenty of large, unmissable signs telling you where you were. Piccadilly Circus, Anvers, Piramide. Here, it seemed you were left to your own devices. There were announcements on board the tram, but they were in Dutch—a language which she knew very little of—incredibly muffled, and pretty much drowned out by the sound of the tram’s motion and its passengers.

Lucy Felthouse
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Welcome to Destiny Blaine's Online Journal

Welcome to Destiny Blaine's Online Journal
"An Award Winning Bestselling International E-book and Paperback Author, Destiny Blaine and her pseudonyms top the charts at Amazon, Bookstrand, Barnes and Noble, ARE, Mobipocket, and other retailers online and off. Scroll down for a list of available titles, works in progress, and coming soon dates for debut titles.”

Author Bio

An award-winning, bestselling erotic romance author, Destiny Blaine writes under several pen names. She lives in East Tennessee with her daughter and husband. Her son is serving in the U.S. Navy.

Coming Soon

  • Beautiful Trouble by Natalie Acres--Coming to Siren-Bookstrand in December 2014
  • His Girlfriend's Brother w/Marc Alice-Submitted to Dark Hollows Press
  • Love is in the Air--Submitted to Dark Hollows Press
  • Vampire Island Books 1, 2, and 3--Dark Hollows Press